The Doll of Meridian
by Citadel
Summary: For four years Phobos has manipulated Elyon as a puppet monarch, while he rules Meridian. But is Elyon really ignorant to his schemes? Perhaps it's not ignorance that keeps her under his control, but something much darker. PhobosElyon
1. Chapter 1

The Doll of Meridian

Disclaimer: I do not own/create/produce any part of W.I.T.C.H.

Warning: Adult Language, Adult Situations, STRONG Lime, and Incest Theme.

The Big Warning: Of all the things I've written, this fanfic is the only one that could possibly get me flamed. So heed this warning and it won't be an issue: Incest, dark-twisted-obsessive-incest! However, Elyon is seventeen at the beginning of this fic and eighteen by the end.

I wanted to write something out of character for me, something dark, something sick, something twisted…voila! To an open mind, this relationship might seem disturbingly viable; after all, it could be said that Phobos 'seduced' Elyon into believing he was this perfect brother and prince, in spite of friends, and family, and evidence to the contrary.

Epistle to Augusta

_For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart_

_I know myself secure, as thou in mine;_

_We were and are --- I am, even as thou art ---_

_Beings who ne'er each other can resign;_

_It is the same, together or apart ---_

_From Life's commencement to its slow decline_

_We are entwined --- let Death come slow or fast,_

_The tie which bound the first endures the last !_

--Lord Byron 1816, to his sister, Augusta Leigh.

For four years, Phobos had kept Elyon in a gilded cage of lies and deceit.

However, she was going to have to die tonight.

There was no point in stalling anymore. She must know something was awry anyway. She was incurably naïve, but not stupid. Earlier that week she had accidentally stumbled upon the torture of a former rebel leader and two of her former friends were able to sneak her a message inside the castle despite Phobos' enhanced wards. Luckily, he caught the letter and the 'evidence' it claimed to withhold before Elyon was able to finish reading it. Still, she had begun to read it…very inconvenient.

She had to die tonight.

Regardless of what she might or might not know, tomorrow was her eighteenth birthday and according to law, she could no longer have a regent guardian. The guise that Phobos had been using to rule tyrannically over Meridian was surprisingly legitimate. Elyon was still an official child and therefore was not fit to govern by herself. So by law, Phobos was titled _Prince_ _Regent_ and given partial monarchial powers to reign over Meridian until Elyon reached adulthood. It was all a matter of legality. Of course, the point was that the regent should be grooming and teaching the monarch in order to eventually hand over rule of the kingdom. Obviously, this was never Phobos' intention.

He had toyed with the idea of keeping her around, even after the dreaded date had passed, but he wisely decided that it was entirely too risky. Her power would double tomorrow and his would diminish to practically nothing; at least at face value that's how it would appear. And Phobos knew very well that appearances were powerful things. He must always appear to be the one in power and if Elyon became acting Queen, it would appear otherwise. An illusion like that might give the rebels _hope_ (just thinking that word made Phobos shudder in annoyance).

Pity though, she really was an endearing creature. It was somewhat of a novelty to have the girl stare at him with such determined admiration in her shining eyes. It was clear she adored him, loved him, believed him to be her savior brother who had searched frantically for her for thirteen years and then cared for her for the past four. No one looked at Phobos the way she did. He was feared and respected, hated and powerful, but he was certainly never cherished by any of his people. Yet this girl, under the influence of countless lies and conspiracies, _worshipped_ him. But the strangest feat of all was that Phobos was finding her deliberate naivety somewhat _charming_. It was such a queer and new thing to be considered _good_. He couldn't help wondering if he would miss it.

Still, he wasn't, and never would be, _good_ and she still had to die tonight.

Phobos hummed rhythmically to himself, a dark and melancholy tune he had chosen for his mother's funeral march. It was his very favorite symphony. That's why he had picked it for such a…_festive_ occasion. He strode down the dark corridor, conveniently left unguarded that night. His footsteps echoed along with the haunting melody and the effect was surreal. In his hands he held a small black casket. Inside it was an object that had been very hard to come by. The Petallic Megnu thrummed with its dark powers, seeming to twist the shadows as Phobos strolled down the hall. Even in Phobos' capable hands, he could feel the 'pull' of the dagger and its magic influence trying to feed off of Phobos' sorcery, but he resisted it with a little concentration. 'Soon,' he willed it, 'soon you shall have your fill. Patience, you little devil."

The Petallic Megnu, or _Soul Eater_, was a cursed black blade made by Lord Tophiasis the Wicked, an ancestor of Phobos' on his father's side, of course. It is said that Tophiasis made the blade from the teeth of an ancient tribe of cannibals and forged it in a fire that burned off the still-living bodies of his disobedient sons, though Phobos had his doubts about this legend. However, what wasn't in doubt was that Tophiasis created a weapon that could stab without harming the physical body and totally murder the soul within. The result was a technically-living corpse, a soulless puppet.

Which was exactly what he required of Elyon.

To come straight out and murder the Queen of Meridian would be too dangerous, even under Phobos' totalitarian government. A martyrdom like that could fuel a rebellion into revolutionary proportions. But if Elyon was to fall 'ill' and slowly slip into an invalid state, then he could continue in his title of _Prince Regent_ and then one day, after many more years of repression and control, maybe even _King_.

Phobos permitted a satisfied smirk to grace his handsome features.

Calling the victim of the Petallic Megnu an 'invalid' was actually grossly inaccurate. For all intents and purposes, the victim is dead. The soul is murdered regardless of the condition of the body and there is no chance of recovery. So what Phobos planned this night was nothing short of sororicide.

_To murder one's sister_…Phobos mulled over his chore, unconsciously frowning. It was a dirty business, but since when did he mind getting his hands a little dirty? Still, he could vaguely understand a little bit of trepidation for the task at hand. After all, he had never slain a relative before, though it was true he claimed a large part in the conspiracy that killed his mother. But in his defense, he never actually intended for her to die…he just didn't want her around anymore. It just sort of _happened_, however fortuitous it was for him.

So tonight he had to kill his sister. What a bother.

Elyon's doors were large, ornate, and leafed in gold. They were gaudy and extravagant things, because a queen's bedroom should look like a queen's bedroom. For the sake and importance of appearances, Phobos always gave Elyon the best of everything. Anything she asked for was hers and in her glowing eyes, Phobos was a generous and indulgent benefactor. It was important that both she and the kingdom remain in awe of her lifestyle.

Phobos had heard of the term, _Puppet Monarch_, but he didn't think it adequately described their situation. Now _Doll Monarch_ was much more like it. Puppets merely performed because of flimsy strings, but dolls were completely controlled and _toyed_ with. They were pretty and darling, so that everyone who sees them coos sweetly, "What a lovely creature!" and cherishes them without ever actually caring for them. Elyon was Meridian's perfect, little doll. And how Phobos dressed her up as one! Silken skirts and laced bodices and satin sleeves adorned her youthful body. She was positively stunning in greens, marvelous in gold, and utterly breathtaking in velvet red. Her flowing golden hair was soft and luxuriant as her brother's and the royal hairdresser could work miracles with the massive tresses. Such a beautiful doll. Even under Phobos' control, the people couldn't help but love their picturesque Queen. Peasants need a figurehead and Phobos used their blind adoration to his full advantage. Such a very _useful_ and beautiful doll.

Such loyal innocence too. She totally revered her brother, constantly tugging at his elbow for the slightest bit of attention and when she got it, she was proverbial clay in his hands. A bit of time and effort was such a small price to pay for her absolute fidelity, so on occasion, Phobos would indulge her. Elyon called it 'quality time', whatever Earth jargon that meant. Sometimes he would help her with her studies (the irony that she would never actually get to _use_ the fruits of her education was not lost on Phobos). On a few, very rare occasions, they would 'hike' together in Elyon's nature reserve, though Phobos loathed this bovine task (what was the point of walking up a hill, if there's just another bloody hill on the other side?). Often while Phobos was reading a dark tome (his personal favorite pastime), he'd hear the _scritch-scratch_ of Elyon's pencil on paper as she sketched him. Honestly, the girl must have enough pictures of his likeness to wallpaper the entire east wing! Though Phobos was secretly flattered, he was a very vain man. But by far the most productive of their 'quality time' was the day Phobos spent teaching the young Queen how to dance in the Meridian fashion. She laughed so merrily as he twirled her about the ballroom floor. By the end of her lesson, Elyon was blushing and breathless and giddy, clutching at her brother's dark robes while she leaned against him for support. "I love you, Phobos," she puffed against his collarbone, for she had grown in her years in Meridain, "Thank you."

"And I love you, dear sister," he lied. One kind word or bit of flattery from Phobos and Elyon was virtually his to control. He was always generous in tossing out little 'I love you's to her. He threw this phrase out to her like some people threw away used tissues. It meant nothing, but to the girl it was everything.

Yet there was one incident in which Elyon deliberately contradicted her brother. A year ago, while Phobos was approving the expenses of Elyon's new summer wardrobe, she had dared to insist that a new seamstress be hired and a new wardrobe planned. She had clutched his sleeve, begging and ordering at the same time (which took a lot of practice). If she was forced to wear one more bow in her hair or frilly skirt she was going to hurl all over the royal throne! After all, she was sixteen at the time and wanted desperately to look like a young lady, not a little girl.

How Phobos had been dreading that moment! He knew all too well that it had little to do with the juvenilely of her wardrobe, but rather the fact that she was a blossoming teenage girl who desperately needed attention from equally hormonal men. This posed a serous problem. Could Phobos risk some stupid boy _not_ to fall stupidly in love with his sister? Especially since love was infamous for inspiring stupid notions of chivalry? Love could make a man lose his sensibilities; it might even inspire a man to defy a tyrannical Prince in order to save the cliché maiden in distress. It had crossed Phobos' mind that he required someone one-hundred percent loyal to him to falsely woo his sister, then he wouldn't have to worry about some love-sick turncoat ruining his control over Elyon. When he asked Cedric to seduce the Queen, the snake general seemed appropriately acceptable (after all, she had been quite taken with him back on Earth), but Elyon seemed to have different feelings here on Meridian. The more Cedric attempted to court Elyon, the more the Queen clung to her brother, seemingly perturbed by the older man's intentions.

Still this didn't sway Elyon's persistence in reference to her wardrobe change. She was being _very _insistent. She wasn't used to her brother not giving her what she wanted. So Phobos relented and the next time he saw her, Elyon's collars were flirtatiously low cut and her sleeves rested low on her shoulders. Her bodice portrayed the classic hourglass figure that was so popular in the royal court, yet she seemed wholly uninterested in the wide-eyed glances of the noble, young men. She paid no mind to the flushes and flirtations of castle knights when they eyed her swaying hips. She just didn't seem to care for the men ogling her. All she seemed to care about was whether Phobos liked the color or texture of a certain dress or if he found this particular silhouette agreeable. She only seemed to latch onto him more, which was fine by Phobos. One less thing to scheme about…

Well until now that is, one year later…

He was going to kill his sister tonight, before she turned eighteen.

Splaying his palm on Elyon's door, Phobos chanted a brief counter spell that opened the wards to the Queen's chambers. The door creaked ominously and slow. Inside, was a traditional scene of fairy tale beauty. The bright light from a full moon glowed romantically through the open balcony and Phobos could see his intended target with great clarity. Golden hair spilled freely across her pillow as the Queen slept with the silk sheets pooling at her waist. One hand was clutched under her chin, while the other laid across her chest. She wore a sleeveless nightgown, yet another attempt at 'maturing' her wardrobe. Her head tilted back into the pillow and her mouth was partially open, while she took long, slow breaths that made her maidenly chest rise and fall like a wave of temptation.

For the briefest of moments, Phobos didn't dare to move. This…this was exactly how he was going to remember her, he suddenly decided in a flash of half-hearted sentimentality. She was the finest rose he had ever cultivated, aglow in the moonlight. The four years in Meridian had been very generous for her. She had grown a little taller, though the top of her head still barely crested Phobos' collarbone and her legs were short for her size. The words to describe the blossoming teenager were, 'petite, but shapely'. She also possessed a youthful and curved figure, a graceful physique, and a silhouette of classical beauty. Her tan was lost a long time ago and she was now as pale and fair as her brother, since castle life affords little sunlight. A silver and golden rose…

Well, no more stalling, time for the deed to be done. It was an inevitability.

Graceful and silent, Phobos opened the black case and withdrew the Petallic Megnu. The curved blade glinted darkly and waited to perform its twisted purpose. It was always hungry.

Creeping like a thief, Phobos couldn't help the demented smirk that spread over his lips, while he crossed the room towards Elyon's bed. Sororicide or not, there was still something so _entertaining_ about this whole fiasco. For four years he had manipulated her like a little doll, while her pseudo throne subtlety drained her energy and stored it in the sacred waters of his bath and everyday her powers regenerated what he took away. She was practically milked like a cow. He was capable of making her think that night was day and day was night. She always believed him, totally and earnestly. He had been the perfect brother, a substitute father figure, and a generous and wise _Prince Regent, _all for her. Who would've thought that he was able to keep up this façade for four whole years? To be honest, he was quite impressed with himself.

He came upon her. She was so peaceful, so innocent. It irritated and pleased him, both at the same time.

Careful not to rouse her, he gently sat on the edge of her rounded bed, the mattress slightly dipping from his weight. He took a few seconds to watch her again, lovely in slumber. Then leaning fiendishly over Elyon, Phobos' hair fell and made a white curtain that seemed to hide his dastardly sin from the world. His long, graceful fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger. His other hand lightly touched one of her bare shoulders. The cursed blade hovered over her chest, inches above her beating heart. He slowly lowered the _Soul Eater_, until it faintly touched the crevice between her youthful breasts.

He paused one last time and because Phobos had always appreciated a certain amount of _theatrics_, he leaned down and pressed a slow kiss upon his sister's forehead. "Goodbye Elyon," he whispered hotly against her brow.

"Goodbye Phobos," she answered.

To Phobos' credit, he didn't jump or drop the Petallic Megnu or perform any other hint of surprise, even though Elyon had startled the wits out of him. He only held the dagger still and glared down at the bright, blue eyes that looked sadly up at him. His smirk faded into a frown as he watched the look of mournful acceptance on her face. It was evident that the child knew she was going to die and at the hands of her brother no less. She seemed so tragic, so morbidly melancholy at that moment, but totally unsurprised.

Admittedly, it wasn't what Phobos would've expected. She seemed almost _resigned_.

Where were the hysterics? Where were the, 'Why?'s and 'How could you?'s? She didn't even want to know his villainous plans? Elyon didn't seem at all shocked to find her brother bearing a dagger to her breast in the middle of the night and frankly, her serene semantics were seriously starting to annoy him.

"So you are awake," he growled, stating the obvious.

"Couldn't sleep," Elyon whispered. Her throat was dry and she had to swallow before she could continue, "Since tonight is my last night alive, I didn't want to waste it."

"Were the guards absence _that_ conspicuous?" his eyes narrowed while he glared down at her.

"Honestly, I didn't notice," her eyes drifted down to the cursed blade that touched her flesh and she murmured, while her voice cracked pitifully, "but I do know that I turn eighteen tomorrow and you can't let that happen."

There was an awkward silence as Phobos hovered over his sister, pondering over how she became so well informed of his intentions. "That letter," he finally responded, "so you did finish reading that letter your tiresome friends had smuggled in for you."

She seemed genuinely confused for a moment. Blinking up at him, Elyon finally erupted in cold, bitter laughter. It took a moment for Phobos to realize that she sounded just like him when she laughed in that manically, calculating way. It was truly like looking down at a female version of himself. It was…disconcerting. They really were brother and sister. "Oh Phobos," she finally said through tragic giggles, her eyes were the only hint that she was in any sort of turmoil, "Do you think I need eyes to see and ears to hear? I've known, brother." Here she gradually raised one hand to tuck his white hair behind his ear and lightly caress his cheek while she was at it, "I've known for a long time now. You rule Meridian. I simply supply your power. Nothing will change that."

"I find that hard to believe," drawling, Phobos propped himself up with one arm, but was careful to keep the Petallic Megnu over Elyon's heart. His face was wrought with annoyance, but a certain amount of interest was hidden behind his expression.

"Why would you say that?" there was that look again, that look of complete devotion and admiration. How could she stare at him in such a way when he was perched above her, ready to strike her dead?

"Am I supposed to believe that over all these years you've known about my schemes and ambitions and yet you did absolutely nothing to stop me?" he quirked an eyebrow at her, "Or that you wouldn't attempt to escape? Somehow that doesn't sound very likely to me."

"Where would I have gone?" and the sadness returned tenfold, "Earth is not my home. I don't belong there anymore. I'm not one of them, I never was." A tear finally escaped from her shimmering eyes. It ran down her cheek and into her hair, "I've only ever belonged here, no matter what the circumstances."

"So you remained, knowing full well that I was going to eventually destroy you?" he asked with biting sarcasm. The dark shine to his eyes flashed like cold emeralds.

"Well…yes," and suddenly an emotion Phobos rarely saw shone on Elyon's face, _guilt_…_shame_. What was that about? "How could I have left you?" she was shivering now and openly crying, "You are the only family I've ever had! My parents weren't even my real parents. My _real_ parents are dead. All I ever truly had was you, my only brother." Her fingertips traced his goateed chin tenderly

He stared at her blankly. What the hell was going on here? What was supposed to have been a simple night of textbook assassination was turning topsy-turvy all because of an overly frustrating sister who was too damn clever for her own good. "What part of, 'I'm going to murder you,' don't you understand?" shaking her hand off, he asked incredulously.

"I understand," there was desperation in her voice and she lifted her head slightly, so that she could lean her brow against Phobos' clenched jaw, because she couldn't stand to look at him anymore…he was just too beautiful, "I really do. You should know, even though it wasn't _real_, you should know that I was happy here. _You_ made me happy-."

"Don't be stupid, it was all deceit. I was lying to you." he snapped, but made no move to push her away.

"I lied to myself too, but what a wonderful lie it was," propping herself up on her elbows, Elyon tucked her face against Phobos' neck. He scowled when he felt her hot, sticky tears soak through his collar; yet he still allowed her to remain where she was. "Every time you said you loved me, a part of me believed you, even though I should've known better. Every time you praised me, every time you cared for me, every time you smiled at me, I _wanted_ so badly to believe in the illusion you created for me. But that's not why I stayed," ignoring the knife that could drink her very soul, Elyon sat up and forced Phobos to lean back with the Petallic Megnu. Despite himself, he was curious as to Elyon's motives and was willing to stay her life just long enough to learn why she had remained with him. He might've relented a bit of room between Elyon and the cursed blade, but he kept it close enough to strike her dead in a heartbeat, just in case she tried anything foolish.

Which as it turns out, she did. Only not in any way Phobos would've predicted.

Gradually, Elyon leaned forward, eyes closed and cheeks blushing. She pressed a firm kiss against his lips. Attempting to communicate everything she couldn't bring herself to say, she pressed hard with her mouth slightly parted. She _willed_ him to understand, so she wouldn't have to speak the terrible depravity she felt in her soul.

For his part, Phobos was at a complete loss for words (for the first time in his incredibly, verbally eloquent life). As Elyon pulled away, his face was the epitome of scrutinizing confusion. Seriously, what the hell was going on here? First, she's not only _expecting _to be murdered by her brother, she's quite _accepting_ as well; second she has the gall to confess to knowing about his schemes for years and claiming to be content with them; and finally, she has the audacity to kiss him on her own death bed! Now that's just rude. And that kiss…unless he was grossly mistaken, that was no sign of sisterly affection- maybe it was because she was about to die…perhaps she was starting to become hysterical.

Because there was simply no way that- no _possible_ way…Well obviously she could never mean it…in _that _way. No, not his sister, Elyon, not the perfect, angelic, and _good_ Queen of Meridian. She was pure, she was holy, she was practically a fucking saint! He must have misinterpreted.

His green piercing glare bore deep into Elyon, fishing out her secrets. He saw it again, the shame and guilt as plain as day. It was so prevalent in her, it was so _there_. How could he have missed it before? Something was eating away at this girl's soul and he immediately knew that this _thing_ inside her was how he managed to control her for four years running. This strange darkness in her spirit had made her his. It had left her utterly vulnerable. Phobos had to find out what the nature of this darkness was; after all, it had been such a huge benefit to him.

"Why did you stay?" he asked, quiet and intense.

Biting her lip, Elyon leaned forward and Phobos thought she intended to kiss him again, but instead Elyon brought her mouth to his ear where she whispered timidly, "I stayed for you…to be near you, to be _with_ you." A sob escaped her throat and Elyon clasped her hand over her lips to stifle her cries. Wrenching away from him as if her confession burned her to the very core, Elyon threw herself onto her bed and buried her face in her pillows. She kept on crying, apparently more emotional about telling Phobos about her true motives for staying, than about being killed that night.

"Ri-ight."…for a while, Phobos could only stare wide-eyed and stunned at her back and shaking shoulders… "Care to run that by me again?" he spoke slowly and precisely, "You stayed here, because of _me_?"

"Yes," her voice was muffled in her pillows and she kept right on weeping.

"To be near me."

"Yes."

"To be _with_ me."

"Y-yes."

"…and in what sense do you mean '_with_'?"

Her resounding sobs were a suitable answer.

"Sweet damnable hell," he muttered under his breath, his hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully, yet he couldn't help sounding interested. Finally, the enormity of her confession was weighing in on Phobos' mind. "Let me reiterate the circumstances again for clarity's sake, since you seem slightly disinclined to articulate the situation properly," he was in full-drawling-super-arrogant-prince mode, even having the audacity to examine his fingernails while he smirked to himself, "You as pseudo-Queen of Meridian know full well that I am steadily absorbing your powers and usurping your throne and have known this for years. You also deduced that I would have to kill you before your eighteenth birthday, quite correctly so. You were fully aware that I periodically battle those you once called friends and have tried to destroy them on several occasions, however unsuccessfully. I have taken those that called themselves your parents and made them suffer in turn. You know that I intend to bleed this land dry like a parasite, that I am the scourge of your people, I starve them, I hurt them, I drown them in despair. And the only one with the means to stop me is you, and yet for four years you've looked the other way and pretended to believe my lies, simply because you are…_infatuated_ with me?"


	2. Chapter 2

0.See previous chapters for disclaimers and warnings.0

"Simply because you are…_infatuated_ with me?"

Elyon stilled for a moment, silent and ashamed, but managed to nod into her pillow.

"Well that's positively the most pathetic thing I've ever heard!" Phobos chimed gleefully, clapping his hands as he chuckled. Well wasn't life full of surprises?

Renewing her sobs, Elyon tried to crawl away from him in her anguish. How could she bear to look at him now, after he knew everything?

"No, no, no," snatching her by the ankle, Phobos pulled her back while waggling one long finger at her. She slid easily over the silken sheets of her bed and didn't' resist as he rolled her over to face him. He _tsk_-ed as if scolding her, "You stay close, little sister. Can't have you getting out of range," and he held the Petallic Megnu up to her face. "I cannot help wondering what your precious, little Guardian friends would think if they knew the truth, that their captive savior is an all too _willing_ captive and not so much a savior," he mock-cooed at her, wiping her tearstained cheeks as he hovered over her, "They'd hate you, obviously, especially if they knew _why_-."

The Prince's sadistic taunting was abruptly interrupted by the chiming of Elyon's silver clock. In unison, they both glanced up at it, eerily quiet and waiting for the rings to finish sounding. When it did, there was a strange echo that remained in the stony silence of the moonlit chamber. Midnight…

"Well," Elyon spoke sarcastically and that tragic look of resolve resurfaced on her face, "Happy birthday to me."

"Yes, happy birthday," Phobos sneered, glancing down at her and noticing just how close he was to his sister. Her tears had made her cheeks pink and eyes sparkle. She was one of those uncanny, pretty weepers that possessed the strange ability to only appear_ more_ attractive when she cried her eyes out. Still gasping after her sobs, Elyon's breath slightly tickled his face. He still held her by the shoulders and his body partially pressed against her laid out form. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of her thin nightshift and the tempting heat her body was producing, not to mention the firm curves he could feel mold into him. Without seeming to realize it, one of his hands released the shoulder he'd been squeezing and slowly caressed down her bare arm.

"I'm glad it's you," she muttered meekly.

This snapped him out of his trance and he quirked one expectant eyebrow at her. (For her part, Elyon had to suppress a shiver; she always adored it when he looked inquisitive.)

"I only mean, I'm glad," she took a long, significant glance at the Petallic Megnu near her shoulder, "that you're doing it, not one of your cronies. I don't think I could have tolerated Cedric assassinating me. He thinks he's so sly and so full of it, when all this was your planning. It's irritating really." Blinking down at her, Phobos was vaguely proud that not only did she give him credit for his scheming, but that she also managed to drawl so much like himself. They really were brother and sister.

And on that note, he decided to end it once and for all. "Shall we finish this, Queen Sister?" slowly, he dragged the cursed blade over her shoulder and down her chest, until it rested over her hammering heart. The heaving of her breasts was admittedly a slight distraction for Phobos.

The smallest nod was the only ascent she gave. Two more tears dropped from her sparkling, blues eyes as she whispered more to herself than to him, "Back on Earth, even as a little girl, I knew I didn't really belong there. I used to dream that a handsome prince would appear and rescue me." Phobos wrapped his hands around the Petallic Megnu's hilt and flexed his arms, ready to drive the blade straight into her soul. "And then you came, but instead of freeing me, you captured me like a bird in a cage," Elyon's fingers abruptly wrapped around Phobos' and he tensed thinking she intended to stop him, but instead, she squeezed his hands. She was helping to guide him. "It took some time," she whispered, one last tear finally cresting her fair cheek, "but I realize now, that it's the exact same thing. Isn't it?"

Phobos didn't really care for metaphors, but he nodded to her nonetheless. "Goodbye Elyon," and his tenor farewell caressed her like chilly silk.

"Goodbye Phobos."

And because (as stated before) Phobos always appreciated a certain degree of _dramatics_, he leaned over to give her one last, parting kiss. The final token of a brother's supposed affection…

Well, theoretically it was a fraternal kiss, but somewhere between the cliché farewells and its actual execution, it became something else entirely. He felt something inside him snap as uncontrolled and possessive as his famous temper.

His mouth sealed violently over hers and he used her sequential gasp to his full advantage, slipping his slick tongue between her lips and stroking greedily against hers. Tangling his empty hand in her hair, Phobos yanked roughly and angled her head back so he could delve deeper into her mouth. Elyon had one moment of numbing shock, before she eagerly returned his embrace. This was technically her first kiss and for an amateur, what she lacked in experience she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her small fists clenched Phobos' robes and tugged his body closer to her. Feverishly, she tried to keep up with his demanding lips and even instinctively arched her back to press against him.

How long had she dreamed about this moment, never actually believing that it was ever truly possible? All those years of swallowing her hope and eating shame- yet here they were, together and altogether forbidden. Her Phobos, at long last, hers.

When Elyon bent her leg and started coyly caressing his hip with her thigh, Phobos finally pulled away from her, growling and prying her fingers off his clothes when she attempted to stay him. He begrudgingly ignored the fact that he was hard and ready and aching. His eyes were half-lidded and glaring at her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, while he loomed darkly over her. "You've no idea what you're asking for," he snarled, scowling.

But Elyon was a queen by birth and when her royal blood boiled for something as desperately as she had been yearning for Phobos over all these years, she was not easily swayed, especially since she was so close to having him. Wordlessly, her fingers flew to Phobos' collar and started unfastening his robes. He stared mutely down at her moving hands as she undressed him. His gaze then fell on the Petallic Megnu that he still clutched loosely in his hand. It was thrumming with dark magic, even stronger than before, angered at being ignored for so long. "Oh," he rolled his green eyes to the ceiling and moaned in surrender, "fuck it." He threw the cursed blade away.

Quickly, his fingers joined Elyon's in frantically removing his princely robes.

-------

It was by far the **dirtiest** sex Phobos had ever participated in (and that was _really _saying something). It wasn't even as if Elyon and he had attempted anything that _imaginative_; the simple fact of the matter was that sex with one's sister is quintessentially perverse by its very nature, no matter what traditional position the actual fornication was spent in. _Who knew incest was so hot? _He chuckled at this thought and felt Elyon moan pleasantly as she snuggled tighter against his chest. The sweat started to cool on their feverish skin and Phobos tugged a silk sheet over their entwined bodies.

There had been an unforeseen benefit to bedding the Queen of Meridian, unforeseen, but certainly not unwelcome.

Phobos felt it, Elyon's powers literally pulsing through him. It was an enormous amount of energy for just under an hour's worth of absorption. He estimated that he received about twice as much magic from one night of Elyon's passion, than from an entire week of Elyon's throne or soaking in the Black Spring. Closing his eyes, he tried to sense and gauge Elyon's remaining power and was pleasantly surprised to discover that her energy was replenishing faster than ever before.

Hadn't he read about this somewhere? Something about the queens of Meridian having very potent sexual power? Something to do with the commune of nature or the essence of life or the very basis of her subconscious instincts or something equally granola like that. Whatever it was, it certainly sounded familiar; needless to say he was going to have to study up on the subject, though little had been written on the matter. (It would've not only been a sensitive subject, but also a mute one, considering that no Meridian Queen had ever wedded a sorcerer who was capable of absorbing her energy; it was forbidden…except for their mother of course, but she hadn't known the origin of their father when she married the man and…well, that's another story.)

So Elyon had not only proven that she was still very useful, but that she could also be extremely…entertaining. When the girl had finally climaxed under Phobos' talented ministrations, clutching at him and crying out his name, a wave of raw power had surged through Phobos so fiercely that he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it. If he had been any less of a sorcerer and not of the royal blood line, he probably wouldn't have been able to handle it, but not only did he keep his bearings, he also set about making Elyon come again- to prove that it wasn't some weird fluke, of course. He was not disappointed the second time around either.

Still, super Meridian powers or not, sex was still sex and Phobos desperately needed a nap before he went experimenting with his newly absorbed energy. Succumbing to slumber, his last amused thought was, 'Whatever would Mother say?'

Elyon stayed awake, dreamily braiding their hair together.

0000000

As Phobos abruptly awoke, his entire body tensed and he kept his eyes tightly shut. The first thing he noticed was the lack of Elyon's body heat next to him. 'Fool!' he viscously chastised himself, 'How could you have let your guard down? You were attempting to kill the girl only a few hours ago and then what did you do? You let yourself be seduced! Why did you fall asleep, you imbecile? She's probably escaping right now or rousing some help. Bloody hell knows what she'll claim _you_ did to her!'

But all those panicked thoughts flew away as Phobos heard the telltale _scritch-scratch_ of Elyon's pencil on paper. Warily, he opened his eyes.

Wearing Phobos' black undershirt (and looking positively sexy in it), Elyon was perched on a chair about five meters from the bed. She was sitting on her feet and using her knees to prop up her sketchbook. Next to her, she was levitating a candle, using its dim light to study Phobos. Her hair was still tangled and messed from their romp and he spotted several of his more aggressive love bites gracing her skin. Not to mention, the red of her neck that was rubbed raw from the burn of his goatee, where he had tucked his head as he thrust madly against her.

Elyon suddenly muttered something and annoyed, erased a mistake in her drawing.

Phobos was laying upon his stomach, one arm tucked under his pillow and the other dangled carelessly off the bed. His legs were outstretched and languid, one was bent slightly to the side. His hair splayed out over his bare back and onto the bed in long, white tendrils that shimmered in the intimate mixture of moonlight and candlelight. (Unbeknownst to Phobos, there were several long, thin scratches cresting the curve of his back where Elyon had dragged her fingernails in the throes of passion.) His nude physique was defined and shapely like granite, while his skin was soft and pale like porcelain. During his nap, he had kicked off the sheets, so that now he lay completely naked and exposed. He made quite a pretty picture, if he did say so himself! Apparently, Elyon was thinking in the same fashion, because her eyes were hard and shining with inspiration and she would occasionally bite or lick her lips in concentration. The Prince realized, not unpleasantly, that this was the first nude portrait he'd ever posed for.

Her eyes finally wandered back up to his face and she gave a start when she realized he was awake and watching her. "Don't move!" she held out her hand and much to Phobos' surprise, he indulged her by holding still, "Please don't move. I'm almost finished, I promise." Feverishly, she returned to her sketchpad, laying the final touches on her picture.

He waited semi-patiently, his vanity making him obey. Staring abashedly right back at Elyon, Phobos realized that she resembled their mother less and less as she grew older, which pleased him. Obviously, he hadn't cared much for the woman and the less Elyon looked like her the better. He might hazard a guess and say she was starting to resemble their father, but Phobos wasn't even sure if he even resembled their father. He only met the man once and the circumstances were not ideal…

_"Paithos?" the sound of his mother's voice startled Phobos who had been too distracted to feel her approach, "My god, Paithos how did you- you shouldn't be here!"_

_It was dark in the castle corridor and Phobos still wore his hair short. For a split second, the Queen hadn't seen her son at all, but her estranged husband, however impossible that was. So she had finally confused him for his father, it was the first time she had ever said the man's given name to their own son. Such an ironic case of mistaken identity, considering where he'd just been._

_"Try again, Queen Mother," Phobos barked back, angry that his voice gave away the fact that he was upset._

_"Oh," and her own voice became noticeably detached and distant like it always did whenever she talked with her son, "Phobos. What is the matter? You look troubled-." With a wave of her hand, the hall was illuminated as the mounted torches lit themselves._

_"I have seen my father," interrupting her, Phobos practically hissed as venomous as ever, "It was vile! He is unshaven, unwashed, barely fed. And there he rots in that disgusting prison cell by your orders since the day I was born-!"_

_"How dare you enter the oubliette without my permission!" she rose to her full height and out of habit and courtly etiquette, Phobos fell obediently silent, "How did you even gain entrance? It is well guarded and you are not allowed access. Shall I guess how you managed? You've been using the craft, haven't you?" She shook her head in defeat, more disappointed than angry, "Phobos, it is forbidden, I have commanded you over and over never to use your sorcery. What must I do to make you understand?"_

_"Well," coldly, Phobos said, "if Queen Mother desires, she may cast me into the oubliette as well. After all, I am not needed now that Queen Mother is with child. Yes, I know, so do not bother to insult my intelligence with your feeble denials. I would question the thing's very legitimacy, but according to my sources you have been visiting my father in his imprisonment as filthy as that must've been for you, considering the conditions I found him in. Admittedly, I could not deduce the reason for your sudden reconciliation, but now the plot is absolutely clear. You finally surrendered your futile attempts to annul your marriage with the man, so you used him to sire another heir, one that was not me. Lucky for you it shall be female this time around."_

_The Queen of Meridian gasped rather ungracefully and the slightest touch of fear rose into her beautiful face. The Oracle had only predicted the child's sex that very morning. "How?" she inched closer to her son, "How did you know?"_

_"As you said," he didn't resist when she touched his shoulder in a sad attempt at motherly affection, but the effect came off as pathetically awkward, "I am not without my resources."_

_"Little Prince," it was his childhood nickname and he grimaced at it; it was the only term of endearment his mother had ever used on him, "Try to understand, I loved your father once-."_

_"If you are truly capable of committing such atrocities upon those you love," the sheer hatred etched upon his face and soaked within his words made the Queen of Meridian recoil from him, "I pray that I may never be among them!"_

_"How can you say that?" a tear ran down her pretty cheek and Phobos barely suppressed the urge to strike her, "I've always loved yo-." With one vicious glare from her son, the profession died on her lips…they both knew it was a lie. She began to cry openly. What sort of monstrous woman felt no love for her son? The guilt in her was like poison._

_"Would you like to know the worst part of all, Queen Mother?" he drawled and the fact that he was so unemotional truly frightened her, "The fool still loves you. He really believes you mean to reconcile, that soon you will send for him and all will be forgiven. Pathetic. And might I add, he was not at all the traitor that you and your conspirators would have me believe his is. I daresay you have no other subject as loyal as him." Phobos added as an afterthought, "He didn't even know me when he saw me, but I set him straight…about everything-."_

_"Your Majesty," the Queen's Captain of the Royal Guard burst in, shouting, "It is the Lord Consort, he is-!" Upon seeing Phobos and unconsciously glaring at the Prince, the Captain fell quickly silent._

_"What about him?" Phobos barked, sneering right back at the glorified guard._

_Ignoring him (because it was well known that openly disrespecting the Prince was a slight courtly faux pas, but it held little actual consequence; a male heir to Meridian was a useless thing), the Captain gazed upon the Queen of Meridian and waited for her to dismiss her son._

_"Speak," she surprised them both by not sending him away._

_Though against his better judgment, the Guard obeyed the Queen. "Sir Lord Paithos, the Royal Consort," he glanced warily at Phobos, but continued, "is dead, your Majesty."_

_"What-," she choked on her own words. A cold flush like ice water was suddenly coursing through her veins and she felt a terrible pull at her heart. Oh Paithos…why?_

_But Phobos was booming for her, "What the hell do you mean dead? He was alive not one hour ago!"_

_"Yes he was," the Captain openly scowled at Phobos. "But according to his private guard, immediately after your importune visit, he was heard weeping and then," his voice softened as he faced the Queen, pity in his eyes, "He hanged himself with his chains. I am sorry, my Queen. It is the fault of my men, they should've been more vigilant." Kneeling upon the stone floor, the Captain bent his head in shame._

_"You-."_

_"You," both Queen and Prince faced each other, shock and loss reflected in each other's faces._

_"You killed your father."_

_"You killed my father," they both said in unison._

_And in way, they were both right._

Bitterly, Phobos pulled himself from his memories. "Did you feel it?" he asked Elyon seemingly out of nowhere.

Pausing the movement of her pencil, Elyon stared dumbly back at him. It took her moment to understand what he was referring to and when she did, she blushed rather shyly. "You mean my powers? Oh yes," she purred, "I felt it." She meaningfully put her sketchbook aside and crawled onto the bed, sitting next to Phobos. "All done," she flashed the picture at him and Phobos couldn't help but be impressed by her artistic abilities. Rolling onto his side, the Prince propped himself up by the elbow and examined his portrait. He nodded his approval; even when he had been plotting against her, he could always admit that she was very talented. "Did _you_ feel it?" she traced the muscled sculpture of his abdomen, grinning to herself as he shivered pleasantly.

"Do you mean the ungodly amount of energy you produced and I suffered to absorb?" he chuckled darkly, "Oh yes, Elyon, I most certainly felt that."

"Suffered, uh?" teasingly, she danced her fingernails along his ribs in an attempt to tickle him, but apparently the Prince was not ticklish. "It was different from the throne," she mused, leaning over him, "Sometimes I barely even noticed the throne draining my powers." (Phobos quirked an irritated eyebrow, because he thought his 'throne ruse' had gone completely undetected by Elyon.) "But when you started absorbing my energy directly, it was…so-," struggling for words, she took one of his hands, "so intimate, I was so vulnerable and helpless…it was almost like you were _violating_ me." Elyon pointedly slipped Phobos' hand inside her shirt and pressed his palm against her breast.

"Mmm," he moaned with her as he squeezed and caressed her flesh, "and how did you like _violation_, dear sister?"

"Well I-, _ah_!" gasping, Elyon threw her head back, when Phobos sat up and tugged the undershirt down so he could kiss and suck at her bare breasts. "Let's just say that I would gladly serve the Prince in the future whenever he requires more of my powers," she arched her back, grinding against that sinful mouth of his, and added slyly, "That is of course, _if_ the Prince permits me to live…"

Abruptly, Phobos halted his ministrations and glared up at Elyon's flushed, smiling, and altogether _too_ innocent face. "If I didn't know better," he scowled and Elyon shivered happily, (she also liked it when he looked pissed, which was quite often), "I would accuse you of having planned all this."

Suddenly very serious, Elyon gently pushed Phobos onto his back and gracefully straddled his stomach. She held his suspicious gaze as she removed the black undershirt and sat upon him completely naked. He couldn't help but to reach greedily for her soft thighs. "If I had ever dreamed that there was even a remote possibility that this would happen, do you really think I would've spent all those years torturing myself? Hating myself for loving you so much," she tenderly touched his face and neck.

_"I've always loved yo-." _His mother couldn't even finish the damn sentence and here was the woman's daughter, pressing her naked sex against her brother and professing her devotion with absolute sincerity. And strangest of all, was that Phobos was daring to believe her, which immediately peeked his paranoia.

"You do realize, of course, that your daily freedoms will be drastically restricted now?" he watched her for any sign of resentment, but there was only total obedience in her eyes, "You'll be under constant surveillance. You know my secrets, my schemes, my plans. I cannot permit you to use them against me. I must always be suspicious of you."

"Yes," she started grinding her hips against him.

"You're still my prisoner," he growled and gripped her waist in a bruising embrace, "You must obey me, always. Swear it, Elyon."

"I swear it," closing her eyes in bliss, she shivered when she felt his obvious arousal pressed against her thigh, "Yes, Phobos, yes forever."

"Very well," Phobos smirked and abruptly flipped them over so he was crushing Elyon into the mattress, "I shall permit you to live." Settling between her legs, the Prince kissed his Queen fervently, lapping loud and wet kisses against her lips. Elyon tangled her fingers in his hair and wrapped her legs around his hips, but he would not satisfy her yet. He wanted to tease her for awhile…after all, he was her big brother.

000000

Elyon's eighteenth birthday celebration was a marvel and shock to say the least. All over the kingdom, peasant and rebel and noble alike were surprised that the Queen was still alive on the day she took full power over the Meridian government. Everyone had expected her brother to have assassinated her long before now, yet there she was, healthy and waving merrily at her people. For the first time, in a long while, the people of Meridian saw a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps there was hope for the future, perhaps Phobos' evil influence wasn't all powerful, perhaps their Queen really was a savior…

That is until Elyon announced that Prince Phobos was being appointed Royal Advisor with full administrative authority and her Royal Seal was bestowed upon him in a formal ceremony. So nothing really changed that day.

Expect for Elyon, of course. In her heart, she had betrayed everything she had ever known, her parents, her friends, even her people. Yet the guilt and shame that had been her constant companions for four years were gone now, vanished like a nightmare at daybreak. Her conscious was content. During the day, her sins were disguised in pretty doll's dresses of silk and velvet and at night, her sins were washed away in the sweat and seed of her brother.

Now she was as guilty as Phobos.

_They really were brother and sister._

Epistle to Augusta

_For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart_

_I know myself secure, as thou in mine;_

_We were and are --- I am, even as thou art ---_

_Beings who ne'er each other can resign;_

_It is the same, together or apart ---_

_From Life's commencement to its slow decline_

_We are entwined --- let Death come slow or fast,_

_The tie which bound the first endures the last !_

--Lord Byron 1816, to his sister, Augusta Leigh…also rumored to be his lover.

Author's Note: I'm fascinated by the dynamics between Phobos and Elyon and am frustrated that the relationship was never further explored on the show. (Not that I seriously expected anything as twisted as what I've presented, but a little more drama and history between the two would've been welcome.) Consequently, I'll probably write more to this 'one-shot', but nothing of plot substance, probably just drabbles and one-chapter anecdotes. We'll see…

Phobos demands you REVIEW…

BTW: When I wrote, _Who knew incest was so hot,_ I could not stop laughing. I can't _believe _I wrote that. Man I'm twisted…


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